


Touch

by missbip0lar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, First Time, Quiet Sex, Sexual Experimentation, fem!slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 20:05:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbip0lar/pseuds/missbip0lar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castielle doesn't even pretend to understand the intricacies of the relationships between other teenage girls; she and Deanna aren't like the others. </p>
<p>-or-</p>
<p>In which Deanna and Castielle's sleepover becomes something less innocent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Both girls are fifteen years old at the time of this story. This happened because I was in the mood for high school AU and fem!slash. Tryin' somethin' different.

It's late, and the Winchester home is black and silent, save for the occasional creaky step and squirrel skittering across the roof over Castielle's head. Deanna's faking sleep beside her; Castielle knows this because her breathing isn't steady enough for the sleep of the dead that Deanna has become an expert in accomplishing over the past fifteen years. Why Deanna is faking sleep now is a mystery to Cas, considering they could be sitting up whispering and laughing about one thing or the other, as Cas understands most teenage girls do at a sleepover. Castielle doesn't even pretend to understand the intricacies of the relationships between other teenage girls; she and Deanna aren't like the others. They've been inseparable since early childhood, when her family moved in across the street from the Winchesters when both the girls were knobby-kneed second graders. Deanna and Castielle were inexplicably drawn to one another despite all their differences. Deanna has always been energetic and active, constantly wanting to go out and _do_ things, whereas Castielle would rather curl up on the couch or in bed with a new book. 

Now that they're in high school, in their respective social groups, Deanna and Castielle don't see one another as much as they used to. When Deanna's not winning trophies for the varsity softball team, she's helping her dad fix up the sleek black muscle car Deanna's convinced will be passed down to her on her sixteenth birthday. Cas, on the other hand, is always busy with the church choir and helping her dad writes his sermons for Sunday service.

This weekend, though, Reverend and Mrs. Novak are at a conference in Chicago, and the Winchesters had been more than happy to take Castielle in for the weekend. 

Cas hasn't been able to sleep all weekend. She's well aware that it's her overactive imagination that's causing it (because she _is_ imagining all these things, she _must_ be), but still Castielle can't click off her brain long enough to get any real rest; at least, not until she's sure Deanna's asleep.

She hears Deanna's sleepy groan as the girl turns over to face Cas and bury her face in the dark hair splayed across her pillow. Deanna hums contentedly - still faking sleep - and her fingers skate over Cas' exposed abdomen almost teasingly before coming to rest on her ribs. She's sure Deanna can feel her erratic heartbeat pounding beneath her skin; it's all Castielle herself can hear, and she's acutely aware of the goosebumps rising all over her body despite the summer humidity. Deanna's the only person who's ever made her feel this way - like she's too hot, but not nearly hot enough - and she's not naïve, she knows what that means. And this weekend has been tense to say the least. Deanna's been teasing her with glimpses of tan, freckled skin and a complete disregard for any personal space. Cas hasn't been able to figure out all weekend if the teasing is accidental or not, and the possibility of all this being intentional has her wondering why. Is Deanna doing it out of cruelty, because she knows about the shameful thoughts Castielle's been harboring toward her best friend, or is she giving Cas a silent go-ahead to try to take things further? They've experimented with kissing, but that was _years_ ago, and Deanna's had a number of boyfriends since then whereas Cas has never kissed anyone except her oldest friend.

Deanna's hand moves ever-so-slowly up Cas' side, her skin alight beneath the questing fingers, and Cas is doing everything in her power not to let on that she's awake, or that she knows Deanna's awake. But Castielle can't stop her sharp intake of breath as the pad of Deanna's thumb _very intentionally_ brushes the underside of her breast. Cas can almost feel the change in the atmosphere of the room as Deanna scoots closer and the pad of her thumb becomes her entire hand and it's not just the underside of Cas' breast anymore but Deanna's cupping the whole thing, lightly pinching and pulling at Cas' nipples until they tighten into buds that may very well be able to cut glass. She's pushing Cas' tank top up to her collar bones so it's out of the way, and kissing Cas' neck with unrestrained enthusiasm, and Castielle is suddenly sweating - certainly more overheated than she'd been when thinking about this possibility. Deanna's shushing her, whispering something along the lines of "Shut the hell up so we don't wake Sammy or Dad," then taking a more proactive route and kissing her silent as she maneuvers them so Cas is spread out beneath her and Deanna's hair is tickling Cas' cheek and shoulder.

Deanna releases her mouth with a wet smack that sounds far too loud in the silence of the house and drags her lips down the column of Cas' throat, and Castielle's shaking at the implication of where those lips are headed. She can't see Deanna in the darkness of the room, but she can feel her mouth turning up into a sinister smile against the swell of Cas' left breast, just a hairsbreadth away from the abused and sensitive nipple Deanna had only just released.

"Anyone ever touched you like this, Cas?" Deanna whispers, her breath hot on Castielle's skin as she drags her thumbs across both of Cas' nipples again.

"No, no one," Castielle whispers in return once she composes herself. Deanna's tongue darts out to flick across the sensitive nub and the action sends an almost electric current all throughout Cas' body.

"Is this okay?" Deanna asks. "Is this why you've been so tense this weekend, because you've been thinking about this?"

"Yes," Cas whispers, unsure which of the two questions she's answering, but she figures it doesn't matter when Deanna's mouth covers her nipple and _sucks,_ her tongue moving with the suction as her other hand moves to take Castielle's sleep shorts off. Cas helps as much as she can, lifting her butt off the bed and allowing Deanna to pull the shorts and her underwear completely off and toss them to the end of the bed.

It's a frenzy of limbs after that as they remove Deanna's shirt and shorts and Castielle sits up to take Deanna's breast in her mouth. They're both panting hard and kissing each other like it's their last night on earth, and the room smells like sex and sweat and they haven't even touched below the waist yet. Cas is in total disbelief, and when Deanna gently pushes her back down on the bed she's more than willing to lay back and let her take control. Her fingers brush through the patch of curls between her hips and asks again, "Is this okay?" very softly into Cas' mouth. Cas cants her hips up in confirmation, desperate for Deanna to touch her the same way Cas touches herself in shame at home to thoughts of scantily clad women with honey brown hair and green eyes and freckles and slightly bowed legs that seem to go on for miles.

And all at once Deanna's finger is there, dragging through the wet heat of her to rub small, slow circles over her clit and it's like Deanna has a degree in this, knows just how to touch Cas to turn all her bones into Jello. Castielle is biting her knuckles to keep quiet and not wake Deanna's brother or father, but Deanna's fingers feel so much better than her own and she can't swallow down all of her whimpers and whines. Cas reaches out to Deanna, grips her thigh and pulls in an attempt to get her closer. Deanna's straddling Cas' leg, and Cas brushes her fingers up the inside of Deanna's thigh as she shuffles closer. Deanna's practically dripping when Castielle finally dips her fingers into her, and Deanna jerks at the sudden contact. Then Cas is matching the rhythm of Deanna's fingers, rubbing gently at the tiny kernel of pleasure and Deanna's shivering all over, and Cas can barely contain her joy at the thought that _she_ is doing this to Deanna, making her bite her lip and groan and rut against her hand like a dog in heat.

" _Ohhh,_ fuck yeah, Cas, just like that," Deanna breathes. Cas wishes she could see her, watch her pupils dilate as she nears climax, and Deanna's fingers are moving faster so Castielle speeds up too, and her thighs are trembling and they're both rolling their hips into one another's hands and it's sloppy and wet and magnificent. Deanna comes first, burying her face into Cas' neck to suck and bite at her pulse as Cas' fingers work her through her orgasm. Cas' fingers come away soaked and she wipes them on the comforter beside her as Deanna's fingers work her rougher, even faster than they were before, and it takes no time for the fire in Cas' belly to expand and the heat and light and _pure sensation_ completely overwhelm her with a silent, shuddering climax.

Afterwards they click on the bedside lamp and share a stolen cigarette, sitting naked together under Deanna's open window.

"You know there's nothing wrong with feeling the way you do, right?" Deanna asks.

"Tell that to the good Reverend Novak," Cas scoffs in return.

"Dude fuck your dad!"

"I'd really rather not," Castielle deadpans, then gives Deanna a small little half smile, who throws her head back and laughs.

Deanna nudges Cas' knee with her own. "We should have sleepovers more often."

"I won't argue with that," Cas responds, before planting a kiss at the corner of Deanna's lips and standing up to get back into bed. "You coming?"

"If you're offering," Deanna says with a suggestive wag of her eyebrows.


End file.
